A little bit of fiction...

I thought I would change things up a bit since I missed yesterday and wanted to try something a little different. This story, or part of it, has been bouncing around in my head for the past couple of days. Figured it was time to let it out. I do, of course, welcome any comments and kind critique.

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Margo leaned heavily against the kitchen door, cringing as the hinges moaned in defiance of the door’s effort to swing forward. Pausing, Margo stared into the center of the room, looking intently at the myriad of shadows that clung to the walls. Slowly stepping into the room she carefully lowered herself down onto the kitchen chair closest to her, clenching as the wood seat creaked and moaned beneath her. Margo exhaled slowly into the pale night air as her shoulders drooped and her hands fell to her sides. Moments passed in complete silence as her head bobbed slower and slower until her chin fell against her chest and her breathing became deep and steady.

The sound of wind chimes and a rooster crowing loudly outside the kitchen window jolted Margo awake. Bright sunlight poured in through the small kitchen window above the sink, forcing her to look away until her eyes adjusted enough that she could see fully the crisp white walls and polished counter tops. Wincing as she rose, Margo limped closer to the kitchen window and peered outside. Chickens pecked at the dry, ruddy-brown dirt that lay in patches around the yard as a rising breeze billowed through white sheets hanging on a clothesline near the fence at the back of the yard. Wind chimes hanging from a fat oak outside the back door grew louder with each rising gust only to drift into quiet melodies as the breeze fell away.

Quietly Margo opened a drawer and rifled through the contents which seemed to be nothing more than faded receipts and twist ties. Frowning she pushed the drawer back in and then repeated the process on the one next to it, which was full of nothing but plastic spoons and packets of ketchup and mustard. Margo’s stomach rumbled loudly as she shifted her gaze toward the refrigerator that sat humming softly on the other side of the back door. Quickly she worked her way through all the remaining drawers and cabinets, rummaging quickly through each before putting everything back just as it had been. With a resigned sigh, Margo turned and limped across the room to the refrigerator.

The reflection of the kitchen window behind Margo showed clearly on the brushed aluminum door of the refrigerator. Margo pulled open the door and peered inside as a wry smile creased her dirt-streaked face. Voraciously she grabbed a piece of cold fried chicken that was sitting on a plate on the middle shelf and wolfed it down as crumbs of fried batter feel down the front of her shirt. Picking the bone clean, she tossed it back onto the plate and reached for another piece. As she leaned down she spotted a large bottle of water sitting on the top shelf in the back of the refrigerator. Margo quickly grabbed the bottle and twisted the lid off, letting it fall to the floor where it bounced around her feet. Then, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back, she lifted the bottle up to her lips and poured the water into her mouth, guzzling it down quickly as it overflowed her lips and ran down the sides of her face.

(To be continued…)